a debt of honor
by viennacantabile
Summary: What happens when you save a very grateful Baby John from a few Emeralds? Much to his chagrin, Ice is about to find out. Hint: Stealth!Baby John. Pre-movie, Ice/Velma.
1. one: no good deed goes unpunished

Disclaimer: Jerome Robbins would probably come back as a zombie and pirouette me to death if I said I owned _West Side Story_, so I'm going to go ahead and let you know that I don't. :)

Note: So I have no idea how I got this idea, but I am definitely having a lot of fun with it. Oh, Baby John, you do amuse me. :) Dedicated to my oh-so-wonderful fanfiction twin, **HedgehogQuill**, because this is half crack!fic and there is no way I would have written it without her. Rated for mild sexuality and a few words.

Note the Second: Btw, kids, please don't feed the trolls. :)

* * *

a debt of honor

one : no good deed goes unpunished

.

"Jets!_ Jets!_"

Ice, hearing the shout, broke into a run. He knew the call of a new Jet in distress from miles away. Sure enough, as he turned the corner of the old Italian grocery and pounded into the alley, Ice saw a cowering Baby John surrounded by three Emeralds he knew only as Red, Fin, and Mouse. He skidded to a stop, sizing them up. Only three, and not a fighter worth a damn in the bunch.

"Get outta here," he snarled.

The Irish trio scowled at him resentfully. They outnumbered Ice and Baby John by one, but on West Side, the Jet third-in-command Ice counted for two and they knew it.

"You heard me," said Ice, glaring at them. "Go on, beat it."

Baby John eyed him gratefully as the Emeralds reluctantly slunk off. "Gee, thanks, Ice."

Ice shrugged, glowering after the three departing figures. The new kid might still be wet behind the ears, but there was no way the Jets would let the Emeralds get away with trying to jump him. "Yeah, don' mention it, kid."

"No, I mean it," continued Baby John doggedly. "I owe ya one."

Still not looking in his direction, Ice waved his hand at him uncomfortably. "I get it, Baby John."

"Captain Marvel wouldn' not pay back a guy who saved his life," persisted Baby John, "an' neither woulda Jet. How can I make it up to ya, Ice?"

Ice finally turned to stare at him. He got that the kid was green and itching to prove himself, but this was taking it a little too far. "Baby John. They wouldna killed ya, just bloodied ya up a bit. It's cool." He turned around and started walking off, figuring that would end the matter. As soon as Ice heard Baby John's scurrying footsteps, though, he knew he was wrong.

"Don' worry, Ice," Baby John said cheerfully as he caught up to the older boy, "if I stick to ya long enough, I'm sure I'll think of somethin'!"

Ice stifled a groan, hoping whatever it was wouldn't involve the newbie pestering him for the next three days. He didn't _not_ like Baby John, exactly: the kid was kind of sweet. Useless in a fight, yeah, but sweet. Which was why Ice wasn't too sure why Riff and Tony had let him in the Jets—unless it was to get the kid off their backs. He'd been pleading with the gang to take him for months now, and Ice had almost begun to reconsider his opinion of that Anybodys chick as the most annoying of the wannabes that always hung around the Jets, when Riff and Tony had finally given in last week. Ice hadn't approved, but he wasn't like Action, who had to give his two cents' worth on everything, so he'd kept his mouth shut. Now he was starting to regret it.

"Whatever, Baby John," Ice muttered under his breath dismissively with a shrug. It couldn't really be that bad. Baby John was just a kid, after all. How much damage could he do?

But by the time Tuesday rolled around, Ice knew exactly what had prompted Riff and Tony to take Baby John in: desperation. In fact, he was amazed that they'd held out as long as they had—Ice had had only three days of the kid, and that was more than enough for one lifetime. Baby John had tailed him to the movies with Velma on Saturday:

.

Crunch, crunch.

Ice, very comfortably situated with Velma, did his level best to block out the noise by concentrating on his girlfriend. Which, normally, wouldn't be hard at all.

Crunch, crunch.

However, as they were an hour into both _To Catch A Thief_ and a very promising makeout session that was being rapidly ruined by _popcorn_, of all things, Ice did not consider this a normal situation _at all_.

Crunch, crunch.

Ice unstuck himself from Velma and whipped his head around to glare behind him. "Knock it _off_, Baby John!"

Baby John innocently held up the striped bag. "Want some?"

.

Then there had been the trip out to his mother's place on Sunday:

"Hey, Ma," said Ice, arm around Velma's waist.

"Hi, Mrs. Kelly," added Velma, smiling.

"Oh, John, ye do look nice today," beamed Mrs. Kelly, putting her arms around them both.

"Your name is _John_?" asked Baby John incredulously, poking his head through the fire escape window. "That's _my _name, too!"

Ice growled. "_Beat it, kid._"

Mrs. Kelly frowned. "Manners, John," she admonished, before smiling at Baby John. "Young man, have ye had dinner yet?"

"Nope," said Baby John, eyes impossibly wide.

Ice groaned: he knew that babyfaced look. Sure enough, Mrs. Kelly motioned for him to come in. "Any friend of John's is welcome to stay," she said, beaming.

"I wouldn' exactly call 'im a _friend_ right now," muttered Ice darkly. Velma squeezed his hand sympathetically.

Grinning blissfully, Baby John dropped through the window. "Gee, thanks!"

.

The last straw had been at the Park on Monday:

"Sure is a nice day for a picnic," said Velma happily, squeezing his hand.

"Yeah," agreed Ice, gazing at her contentedly. He dug around in the basket she'd brought. "Want some cake?"

"Cake?" asked Baby John suddenly, popping out from behind a bush.

Velma raised an eyebrow; Ice choked. "_Baby John_!"

"Tha's me," said the younger boy cheerfully. "That Velma's almond cake? Can I have some?"

Ice glared at him. "Sure, Baby John," he ground out, cutting a thick slice. He promptly shoved it in Baby John's face. "_Want any more_?"

"Nope," said Baby John through a clump of cake and icing, "I'm good."

.

It was like having an extremely inept shadow.

"_Enough_, Baby John," Ice finally growled as the kid trailed after him into Doc's Tuesday night. "Quit followin' me around!"

Baby John shrugged, wide-eyed. "I'm just here for the meetin', Ice."

Ice blinked. The kid was making him _paranoid_. "Oh."

"But I'll be right there afterward!" Baby John continued cheerfully. "An' I'll keep bein' there, every day, until I or you think of somethin' I can do to repay ya!"

Ice stared at him, horrified. "_What_?"

"Yeah!" grinned Baby John. "I owe it to ya, Ice!"

The tall Jet shook his head in disbelief. "Baby John, look, ya gotta—"

"Everybody here?" called Tony loudly, interrupting Ice. "Good. Now, listen up. We got serious business to discuss."

Ice shot a baleful look at Baby John before stalking off to sit on Riff's right.

"Kid still shadowin' ya?" Riff murmured under his breath as Tony ran down a list of grievances against the Emeralds, ending with a vehement clap on Baby John's back.

Ice nodded with a grimace. "He's gettin' on my nerves."

Riff let out a low whistle. "Tough luck, buddy-boy."

"An' what's worse," Ice went on, making a fist and covering it with his left hand, "he ain't exactly good at it. Graz could tail me better'n Baby John."

Riff winced. Even he knew his girlfriend was loud. "That bad, huh. Well, look," he said as the other Jets erupted in hoots and whistles for whatever it was Tony had just said, "maybe the kid'll give up an' just go home and write ya a thank-you card or somethin'."

"Okay, then, Jets!" finished Tony, clapping his hands, "ya know what to do. Ya see a red-headed kid, ya drop him, no questions asked. See ya here tomorrow, same time."

The Jets began shoving aside chairs and heading out into the night. Ice kept his eyes on Baby John, who was humming tunelessly and trying to look innocent. "Well," he sighed heavily, "here's hopin', Riff."

.

Ice took one last look around before noiselessly scaling the fire escape outside Velma's apartment. At the top, he paused, and scanned the alley again. Once again, there was no sign of Baby John, who'd been curiously absent since Ice had shaken him off by the playground. Ice frowned. It was a bit unsettling, and it felt a little too easy, but Baby John was so loud that there was no way he could be there. Breathing a sigh of relief, Ice hoisted up the window and climbed inside.

Velma, curled up on her bed, straightened up. "Hey, honey," she said happily as Ice slid onto the sheets next to her. She snuggled into him with a smile. "Ya lose the third wheel tonight?"

Ice put his arm around her and stroked her hair. "Sure hope so," he said fervently, shaking his head.

"Good," Velma giggled, resting her hand on his shirt, "'cause I don' know about you, Ice, but I don't want an audience tonight."

Ice sighed, his brow furrowing. "Me neither. That kid's stressin' me out, Vee."

Velma smiled flirtatiously up at him, winding her arms around him. "Well, I can help ya out with that," she said idly, kneading her hands into his shoulders. Ice, relaxing into her touch, pulled her onto his lap to straddle him. "He ain't here now, is he?" she pointed out, gazing down at him through her eyelashes.

"Nope," Ice half-smiled, gripping her waist, "an' I can think of plenty else to do, too."

"Good," breathed Velma, slipping her hands underneath his shirt. "Me, too."

Grinning, Ice impatiently pulled her down onto the sheets and kissed her. Sure, they'd only been followed by Baby John for three days, but for them, three days were like three years. With this in mind, neither of them wasted any time with the preliminaries, stripping off their clothes with abandon and making up for the time the kid had taken. Velma, face flushed, was just starting to reach for the drawer of her bedside table when they heard it: the distinct squeak of sneakers on the metal of the fire escape.

Ice swore. "This stops _now_," he snarled. He tossed the sheet at Velma, who rolled her eyes and sat up, tucking it around her. Ice grabbed his pants, yanked them on, and stalked over to the window.

.

Baby John, crouching on the fire escape underneath Velma's open window, had no idea his doom was approaching. Instead, concentrating on thoughts of how to settle up with Ice and trying desperately not to hear anything he didn't want to hear, Baby John had screwed his eyes shut—so he completely missed the curtain being wrenched open.

"Hey, Baby John," said Ice, leaning on the windowsill and smiling dangerously. "Fancy seein' _you_ here."

Baby John, arms around his knees and trying to look as small and unincriminating as possible, opened his eyes and looked up sheepishly. "H-hey, Ice."

"D'ya know what I was doin', Baby John?" asked Ice conversationally.

Baby John eyed him uncertainly. Ice's usually smooth dark blond hair was sticking up in all directions, his face was covered in pink smears of lipstick, and he wasn't wearing a shirt. So even Baby John had a pretty good idea of what Ice had been up to. But he wasn't sure what the answer least likely to get him killed was. After all, every Jet knew that Ice was pretty touchy about his girlfriend.

"Maybe?" he offered feebly.

"_Fun_," said Ice, a deranged look in his blazing pale eyes. "I was havin' _fun_, with my _girl_, who I haven't had a second of time alone with since _you_," he pointed at Baby John, chest heaving, "decided you were my goddamn _shadow_."

"But—ya saved my life, Ice," said Baby John meekly. "I owe it to ya to think of some way to pay ya back for that."

"I don't care if I saved your ass from wild bears 'cause I'll sure as hell never do it again," spat Ice. "Not 'less ya figure out ya don't owe me a _thing_ 'cept some goddamned _privacy_!"

Baby John shrugged helplessly. "It's a gentleman's debt of honor, Ice!"

"_Jesus_, Baby John, whaddaya want from me?" demanded Ice. "Do I hafta ask ya for the pens outta Glad Hand's pocket or the shirt offa Krupke's hairy back 'fore you'll leave me alone? 'S like ya want me to tell ya to steal the rap sheets from Schrank's desk or somethin'!"

Baby John stared up at him wordlessly. He had never, ever seen Ice lose his cool like that. Ever. He doubted anyone had, even Riff or Tony. It was actually frightening.

So really, there was only one thing left to say.

"Which ones didja want?"

Ice let out an inarticulate roar and lunged at him. Baby John flinched, squeezing his eyes shut in anticipation of the extreme pain he was sure he was about to feel. But after a few seconds passed and he was still unmangled, he hazarded opening one eye. Velma, wrapped in a sheet, was tugging a dazed-looking Ice back into the room.

"Ya might wanna leave, Baby John," she called, her voice half-annoyed and half-amused. "Not sure how long I can keep him distracted while you're here."

Baby John, hardly able to believe he was still alive, nodded vigorously. "_Thanks_!"

"Just don' you start followin' _me_ around," she warned testily, before turning her attention back to Ice.

Baby John blinked. Now that she mentioned it, Ice _was_ way more dangerous than a few Emeralds…

Velma reappeared at the window, flushed and panting and clutching the sheet around her. "An' I _mean_ it." She yanked the curtain shut.

Baby John sighed. She had a point. As unhappy as Ice was being shadowed by Baby John right now, he'd be even more annoyed if Baby John started tailing Velma, too. Baby John just hoped that Velma kept her boyfriend distracted enough so that, come the next day, Ice wouldn't remember that Baby John had seen Velma wearing not too much at all—after all, the newest Jet kind of enjoyed being alive.

Now. What to do next? wondered Baby John. He didn't think it was wise to stick around. As if to underscore that point, a very intimate-sounding sigh suddenly came floating through the window. Baby John turned pale—and bolted.

.

Thump.

A-Rab snuggled into his very flat pillow, squeezing it tightly. "Keep doin' that, baby."

Thump.

"Wait, no, changed my mind," he mumbled blurrily with a frown. "I don' like it."

_Thump_.

"I said I _don' like it_," groused A-Rab. "Stoppit!"

THUMP.

A-Rab cursed and sat up in a flurry of blankets. "_Anybodys, what the hell_?!"

Baby John's face loomed up out of the darkness. "What? It's me, Baby John," he said as he moved closer to A-Rab's bed, confused. "I was just climbin' up, and kept hittin' the wall. Whaddaya mean, anybody?"

A-Rab's eyes bugged as his head cleared. "N—nothin'," he sputtered, then did a double take. "Like _you_ should be askin' questions, Baby John!" he said loudly, glancing at his clock. "It's two in the mornin'! What're ya doin' here?"

The blond boy ducked his head, avoiding A-Rab's gaze. "Well, Ice got mad an' threw me out an' I didn' know where else—"

"No," interrupted A-Rab, stunned, "no _way_. You two weren't—"

Baby John flushed. "Hell no, A-Rab!" he said vehemently. "You know I an' Minnie—" He stopped abruptly.

A-Rab cracked a grin, but decided to let that go. "So whaddaya mean, then? An' say it plain."

Baby John shuffled his feet, looking sheepish. "Y'know how I been followin' Ice around, tryin' to do somethin' for him for savin' my neck? Well, after everyone left Doc's, I, er—was sittin' out on Velma's fire escape, thinkin', while they was—um—"

Instantly awake, A-Rab leaned forward, eyes wide. "No wonder Ice was pissed! _Didja see her naked_?"

Baby John blushed. "No!"

A-Rab sat back, disappointed. "Aww, _man_."

"She had a sheet coverin' her up," added Baby John, turning even redder.

A-Rab perked up, intrigued again. "She did? Are ya _sure_ ya didn't see nothin'?"

Baby John seemed to think for a second, then visibly shook himself. "No! Anyway, it don't matter," he said heatedly. "I gotta think of some way to square things up with him!"

A-Rab stared at him, shaking his head in disbelief. He was pretty sure no one except Ice was ever going to get past Velma's clothes, and here Baby John had been _right there _and missed a _golden opportunity_ for all of mankind, everywhere! It was a crying shame. He shook his head again, then managed to turn his thoughts to Baby John's words. "I don't get it," he said, scratching his head. "Why ya think ya gotta pay him back in the firs' place? We're Jets, now. Savin' each others' asses is what we do, Baby John."

Baby John frowned. "That's just it, A-Rab! I ain't saved _anyone's_ neck yet—it's just been the other way around. I gotta do somethin' to prove I ain't just dead weight holdin' 'em down—that I _belong_!"

A-Rab rolled his eyes. "Ya _do_ belong, Baby John. Else why would they take ya in?"

Baby John shook his head. "It don' matter," he insisted stubbornly. "I just gotta do this, A-Rab, so help me out, would ya?"

A-Rab sighed. "Okay. Fine, Baby John, but just this once. Now," he said, thinking furiously and trying not to let the last remnants of his _very_ pleasant dream distract him, "here's what we gotta do."

.

Riff Lorton was very startled to be awakened at three in the morning by a very rumpled-looking Ice towing a very resigned-looking Velma behind him by the hand.

"Hey, buddy-boy, ya got lipstick all over yer face," he pointed out cautiously. Ice's shirt was also inside-out, but Riff, noting the distinctly unbalanced look on Ice's face, decided not to mention that.

"I can't take it anymore," said Ice, ignoring him. "Baby John's been followin' me around for _days_ now an' _I can't take it anymore_. He ain't givin' up an' sendin' me a thank-you card, Riff—ya gotta do somethin' about him!"

Riff eyed him. "Cool, Ice, remember playin' it cool?"

"Would _you_ be cool if Baby John sat on the fire escape outside'a Graziella's room while you and she were tryin' to have some privacy for the first time in _three days_, Riff?"

Riff sat up, horrified. "He did that?"

Velma nodded, rolling her eyes. "He did."

Riff digested this. "_Jesus_."

"You're my best buddy, Riff," said Ice pathetically. "Ya _gotta_ help me."

Riff thought for a minute. On the one hand, it _was_ kind of amusing to see the famously unflappable Ice brought completely to his knees by a little pipsqueak of a new Jet. On the other hand, Riff and Tony were planning an all-out rumble with the Emeralds soon and they needed their second-best fighting man at top strength, both physically and mentally. Riff, eyeing the disheveled Ice, made up his mind.

"Okay, cats," he said, leaning forward. "Here's what we do."

.

.end.

* * *

Stay tuned to find out what happens. Hint: it involves walkie-talkies, Boy Scouts, and Officer Krupke. :)

—viennacantabile


	2. two: the best laid plans of mice and men

Disclaimer: I don't own _West Side Story_, I merely take great pleasure in torturing the characters. Eheh. XD

Note: So I know it took me awhile to finish this, but hark! This may actually be the first true multi-chapter work (meaning not loosely-related oneshots) I've ever completed. And there was much rejoicing. :)

For: **LazyChestnut**, as always, and also **Ash Light**, who reminded me that I needed to finish this fic. :)

* * *

a debt of honor

two : the best-laid plans of mice and of men

.

"I don' like this," muttered Ice, glancing at Velma with a frown.

Riff sighed. "Ice, y'know it's the only way."

"I mean, I _really_ don' like this," insisted Ice. "Why we gotta involve Vee in it?"

"Look," Riff said for the five-hundredth time, "for starters, even Baby John'd never believe ya. You're one hell of a fighter, pal, but ya can't snow anyone worth a damn. Velma can do the damsel in distress act—she's got it down pat; I mean, she got _you_, right? An' second," he said, shaking his head, "ya wanna let it get 'round that you needed his help with a buncha kids?"

Ice grimaced. "Hell, no."

"Then this is the way it's gotta be," said Riff with an air of finality. "Velma understands, don't ya, Velma?"

The blonde just rolled her eyes, wrinkling her nose and trying to ignore the smell wafting over from the dumpster they were hiding behind. "Sure, Riff."

"Relax, buddy-boy," Riff said, clapping a hand on Ice's back. "Tony showed the kids pictures of Velma an' Baby John. They know who they're lookin' for. What could go wrong?"

Suddenly, the two-way radio clipped onto Riff's pants crackled to life as Tony's voice sounded into the air. "_Beta Jet Squad, do you copy? Target Marvel Minor and Carrot Top headed your way. Repeat, target Marvel Minor and Carrot Top headed your way!"_

Riff grabbed the walkie and flipped a switch. "I read ya loud an' clear, Alpha Jet One!" he barked. "Implementin' Operation S.I.B!" Catching Velma's incredulous look, Riff grinned sheepishly. "I an' Tony nabbed these offa Krupke an' Goddard's squad car when we was little. Always wanted to use 'em."

Velma raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. "Operation S.I.B?" she asked instead.

Riff gave her another gleefully shamefaced grin. "Operation Save Ice's…well, you know."

Ice groaned loudly. "_Thanks_, Riff."

"No problem, buddy-boy," Riff told him cheerily. "Now, Velma, you get out there, an' Tony'll tell the boys to start threatenin' ya. Not too much," he added hastily as Ice glared at him. "An' then when ya see Baby John, ya know what to do."

Velma rolled her eyes yet again. "I got it, Riff." She got to her feet and stepped lightly out from behind the dumpster, into the alley. Behind her she could hear the two Jets still squabbling. She sighed. _Men_.

.

Three minutes later, Velma blinked as a man in a black jacket and a ski mask approached her. Well, she thought, eyeing him critically, Tony certainly had gone all out.

"Hey, pretty girl," the man sneered. "Gimme your purse."

Velma clutched her purse tightly for effect. "Help!" she screamed loudly, glancing around.

The man rolled his eyes. "C'mon, girlie, just gimme your purse, an' ya won't get hurt."

"You're not actually supposed to rob me," she hissed in exasperation, looking around for Baby John.

The man frowned. "The hell're ya talkin' about?"

Velma glanced at him. "You know, just wait around til' Baby John shows up." She frowned. "An' weren't there s'posed to be more of ya? This might not be that believable, ya know."

The guy stared at her. "Look, just gimme your purse, an' I'll go, crazy lady."

Velma raised an eyebrow. "Tony is definitely payin' you too much."

Clearly out of patience, the guy stuck his hand in his jacket and pulled out a gun. "_Gimme the purse_," he growled.

Velma, staring down the barrel of the gun, let out a small squeak. This was definitely not in the script.

.

Over by the dumpster, Riff was impressed. "Hey, that guy's good," he commented, keeping hold of Ice's jacket collar. "Chill, Ice." He snickered. "Heh. Chill, Ice. Get it?"

"He's pointin' a gun at her!" snarled Ice, fighting to get loose. "Plan or no plan, I'm gonna rip that guy's—"

"All for the authenticity, buddy-boy," reassured Riff cheerfully, then frowned. "Wonder where the other two are, though."

There was a patter of feet, and Tony dropped down next to them, automatically reaching out to help Riff hold Ice back. "Hiya, Riff, Ice," he greeted brightly. "Last I saw, Baby John an' A-Rab were on their way over." He nodded at the ski-masked guy approvingly. "He's new. Where'd ya get him?"

Riff felt his stomach lurch as Ice froze, then struggled harder at these words. "Ya mean…he's not one of the kids ya got?"

Tony frowned. "Nah. Couldn't find anyone but pipsqueak _Boy Scouts_, for cryin' out loud. No way they'd be able to get—a gun," he finished, turning pale.

As one, the three boys turned to stare.

"_Shit_."

.

Out in the alley, Velma was trying not to panic when she heard a voice pipe up from behind her:

"Lady, is this guy botherin' ya?"

Velma edged backwards toward the voice, not daring to look back at her rescuer. "Help!" she said faintly.

And three scrawny boys ran out in front of her and tackled the ski-masked man.

"Hey, what the—" yelped the mugger as his gun went flying and he went down beneath a flurry of fists, too surprised to fight back.

"We're gonna get our merit badges for sure, now!" declared a short, burly kid with dark hair, enthusiastically diving in and swinging an experimental punch or two.

"Which one is it again?" asked the tow-headed, freckled boy, looking thrilled to death as he sat on the mugger to hold him down.

"Helping the elderly!" supplied the last boy, a lanky redhead, as he took a coiled rope from his belt and wound it around the mugger's ankles, finishing it off with an expert knot. "You know, old people!"

Forgetting herself, Velma stuck her hands on her hips and did her best imitation of her boyfriend's Glare, highly affronted. "I am _not_ old!"

"We weren't sayin' ya was, lady!" added the freckled boy hastily, looking apologetic from his seat on top of the hapless thug.

"Actually—hey, you're real cute!" said the redhead, his grin switching on like a lightbulb.

"She is!" agreed the freckled blond, whacking the mugger upside the head. "I can't believe this lowlife tried to steal her purse! What kinda gentleman _are_ ya?" he asked, sounding scandalized. The mugger just groaned.

The dark-haired boy scowled. "Hey, _I_ saw her first!" he informed his friends. "I get dibs! So when d'ya wanna go out, then?" he asked, turning to Velma and amping up his smile a watt or ten.

Velma's jaw dropped. "I have a _boyfriend_," she managed, flabbergasted that a trio of pre-teen _Boy Scouts_ was coming on to her. "A very tall, very _jealous_ boyfriend."

"Oh. Well, okay," said the dark-haired boy, sounding vaguely disappointed before brightening. "Call me when ya dump him, will ya?"

"_She's crazy_," hissed the mugger from the ground. "Cute, but _crazy_. Run while ya still can!"

"Sit on his face, would ya?" directed the short, dark-haired boy, who seemed to be the leader, to the freckled blond. His friend obligingly began moving over, before a panicked promise to shut up stopped him.

"Say, uh, you weren't the lady we were supposed to find, were we?" asked the redhead thoughtfully, stroking his nonexistent beard.

Velma blinked. "Tony hired _you_?" she asked incredulously.

"That's right!" piped up the blond, bouncing up and down. The mugger made an _oof_ noise. "He was a real tough guy, real cool. I'm gonna be just like him when I grow up. Oh, I'm Doug, by the way," he added, waving happily. He pointed first at the redhead, then at the shorter boy. "That's Kevin," he identified, "and that one's Russell." The blond boy beamed. "My mom always said be polite to ladies."

"That's nice," said Velma weakly.

"We're Boy Scouts," added the dark-haired boy she now knew was named Russell. "The _best_."

Velma just nodded. What in the world was she in for now?

.

Meanwhile, over behind the dumpster, Ice had calmed down just a bit after seeing the Boy Scouts take the mugger down. Which meant he was still less than happy with his fearless leaders.

"What the hell was that?!" hissed Ice, gritting his teeth. "Of all the street corners in West Side, we pick the one with an asshole who picks on girls an' operates durin' the _day_? This'd _better_ work, Riff!"

"Relax, Ice," grinned Riff. "Sure there was a little snag, but hey, no one got hurt, an' everythin's goin' to plan."

"Yeah," agreed Tony cheerfully. "Say, I wonder what they're talkin' about over there. Looks important, don'tcha think?" He gestured to the three Boy Scouts, who were ringed in a semicircle around Velma, the blond kid still squatting on the mugger.

"It'd better be," muttered Ice. "Don' know how much more'a this I can take."

.

"—an' then after that, there was the trackin' badge—Doug was real good at that, weren'tcha, Doug, an' then there was the campfire badge, an' oh, yeah, the basket-weavin' badge!" finished Russell. He grinned. "That was my favorite."

Velma resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I bet it was," she said sweetly.

.

"Yep," said Riff solemnly, "It's gotta be _real_ important."

.

Frowning, Velma tapped her foot. Where were Baby John and A-Rab? She knew what she was supposed to do, backwards and forwards: the boys were supposed to pretend to attack her, and then Baby John and A-Rab would show up, and then she would yell—

"_Jets! Jets!_"

Velma frowned. That was _her_ line. But who in the world had—

"Don' worry, Velma!" bellowed Mouthpiece, hurtling out of nowhere, "I'll save ya!"

Velma blanched, letting out a small "eep!" as he crashed into her, wrapping his arms tightly around her body. This was so not in the plan.

"Mouthpiece, let go!" she yelped, struggling in his grip. Over his shoulder, Velma could see Ice's enraged face popping up from behind his dumpster hiding spot. She shook her head frantically at him—if he stormed over here now, with Baby John and A-Rab due to arrive any minute, the plan was ruined, and she, for one, didn't want any more audiences on her fire escape—then sighed in relief as two pairs of hands forced him back down. Thank goodness for Tony and Riff.

"_No_!" bleated Mouthpiece, shaking his head vigorously as he clutched her. "I ain't gonna let the bad kids hurt ya, Velma, I just _ain't gonna_!"

"No one's hurtin' me, Mouthpiece!" she hissed. "Just—let go, would ya?"

"Won't!" insisted the tall Jet obstinately, squeezing her even tighter.

And then—_bam_. Down went Mouthpiece, felled by a plank of wood to the head. Velma just had time enough to struggle away from his suddenly-slack arms and dodge before the huge Jet crashed to the sidewalk, a dopey smile on his face.

"Gee, lady," said Russell sympathetically, shouldering his makeshift bat, "ya just ain't got no luck with the muggers, do ya?"

Off in the distance, a muffled noise that sounded very much like "_HELL, YEAH_!" was heard.

"Nope," said Velma faintly. "I don't."

.

"Hey, those Boy Scouts ain't too shabby at throwin' down," commented Riff, amused. "Maybe we oughta think about takin' one or two of 'em."

Ice stared at his friend, dumbfounded. Even if they _had_ done him the favor of taking Mouthpiece out, there was no way in hell the Boy Scouts were Jet material. "_What_?"

Riff snickered. "_As if_! Those kids wouldn' last a second as a Jet!"

Tony joined in with Riff's laughter. "Not 'less we rumble against the _Girl Scouts_!"

Riff found this hilarious; Ice, however, just shook his head and buried his head in his hands. "This'd _better_ work."

.

On the ground, Mouthpiece groaned and rolled over, coming face-to-face with Velma's shoes. "Gee, Velma, you okay?" he asked concernedly.

Velma rolled her eyes. "Yeah. But," she added in a moment of inspiration, "y'know what I just saw? A _butterfly._"

"A _butterfly_?" repeated Mouthpiece, his not-inconsiderable mouth hanging wide open as he jumped to his feet. "_Where_?"

"It went that way!" Velma said innocently, pointing down an alley. "It was real pretty, I'd sure like to have it!" she hinted heavily.

"Well, gee!" breathed Mouthpiece, awestruck. "WAIT FOR ME, BUTTERFLY!" he hollered, and ran pell-mell in the direction she'd indicated.

"If ya hurry, you can catch it!" called Velma brightly, letting out a sigh of relief.

"Lady, that guy sure is cuckoo," said Russell, wide-eyed.

"_Crazy people_," moaned the mugger in fervent agreement.

"I, um—got no clue who he is," said Velma delicately. "But thanks."

"Don't mention it!" said Russell cheerily. "Now d'ya wanna go out with me?"

Velma groaned. "_No_."

.

"Well, at least he's gone," groused Ice. "I swear, when I get my hands on him, I—"

At that moment, he was interrupted by a distant trumpeting that sounded very much like the recently-departed Jet:

"WELL, HIYA, A-RAB, BABY JOHN! DIDJA SEE THE BUTTERFLY THAT FLEW BY? I'M GONNA CATCH IT FOR VELMA!"

Riff popped up and waved frantically at the group out on the street. "They're comin'! They're comin'! _Implement Operation S.I.B._!"

.

"That guy over by the dumpster doesn't look too happy," said Doug thoughtfully, wrinkling his nose in concern. "Wonder what's wrong?"

It took all of Velma's self-control not to scream. "I think you boys're supposed to be threatenin' me," she ground out instead.

The tow-headed boy blinked. "Oh. Right."

"Okay, guys, it's merit badge time!" declared the dark-haired Russell determinedly. "Form up!"

Kevin immediately straightened up and saluted; Doug did the same, still perched on top of the mugger, who just whimpered.

Velma paled; she could just make out Baby John and A-Rab coming out of the alley.

"_Hurry up an' threaten me, will ya_?" she hissed.

"Right!" Russell nodded vigorously. He stuck his hand out. "Uh—gimme your purse!"

"No!" Velma cried loudly, the better to attract Baby John's attention. "You get away from me!"

Russell blinked, taking a step back. "Um, okay."

This time, Velma did scream. However, as she shared her boyfriend's ability to keep a fairly cool head in even the most frustrating of situations—and this was certainly that—she made sure to stick to the script:

"_Jets! Jets!_"

This did the trick; Baby John and A-Rab immediately dashed over. Baby John surveyed the scene with wide eyes. "Gee, Velma, you okay?"

"Nope," Velma managed through gritted teeth, "they're tryin' to attack me, Baby John! Save me, would ya?"

A-Rab started forward. "Hey, runts," he commanded, "no one messes with one'a our girls. Get outta here!"

There was a silence, in which Russell, Kevin, and Doug stared at the two Jets and Velma waited on tenterhooks to see if the trio of Boy Scouts would remember what to do. Finally:

"Oh!" cried Russell, not very convincingly, "a Jet! Run!"

"But we can't—" started Doug, looking conscience-stricken as he glanced from Velma to Baby John and A-Rab. Velma glared at him; kid or not, enough was enough. The boy yipped. "Right!" he declared, jumping up. "Run!"

Redheaded Kevin frowned. "What're you talkin' about?" he demanded. "They couldn't hurt a fly!"

The other two nudged him in a not-so-subtle manner. "_Yeah_, they _could_!"

At last the light dawned on the tally, gangly boy. He looked at Baby John, then at A-Rab. "Run," he agreed, and the three boys tore off down the block.

Velma dropped her head into her hands as A-Rab stared after them, wrinkling his forehead. "Baby John, whaddaya think that—" He stopped. Baby John was bending over a man who was wearing, for some reason, a ski mask.

"Hey, are you—"

"Okay, okay," the man groaned. "I give up! I surrender!"

Baby John blinked. "What—"

Then he heard the sound of sirens and saw the lights of a police car speeding toward them. Baby John gaped as the car screeched to a stop and Officers Krupke and Goddard leapt out.

"When I get my hands on the punks who stole my radio—" Officer Goddard growled. Then he saw Baby John, and his eyes bugged. "_You_! Where's my radio?!" he raged.

Baby John shrank back in fear. It was _Minnie's_ father. "I dunno what you're talkin' about, Officer Goddard!"

"Don't lie," scoffed Officer Krupke. "We heard ya on the police line, yammerin' about Jets. We know one'a youse punks stole it all those years ago. Now give it up."

Baby John, helpless, looked at A-Rab. A-Rab looked at Velma. And Velma looked at the police officers and sighed._Men_.

"Actually, Officer Goddard, Officer Krupke," she began politely, "these nice boys saved me from that man, over there." She pointed at the robber, still in his ski mask. "He pulled a gun on me an' tried to take my purse."

Officer Goddard swiveled around. His eyes widened as he caught sight of his daughter's friend. "_Velma!_" he said in a very different tone of voice. "Are you all right?"

Velma nodded, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "Yeah. But I wouldn' be if it weren't for Baby John an' A-Rab," she said sweetly.

Officer Goddard considered this, then gave a grudging nod. "Nice job, boys."

A-Rab smirked. "Thanks, Officer G."

Officer Goddard directed his scowl at a cringing Baby John, even though he hadn't been the one to say it. "Don't push it."

While Goddard and Krupke were busy handcuffing the dazed mugger and reading him his rights, Velma turned to face Baby John. "_Thanks_, Baby John," she breathed, injecting a note of admiration into her voice. "Ice'll be _so grateful_ to ya!"

Baby John blinked. "What? Oh, right," he said, catching on. "I dunno, ya think that'll be enough?"

"_Yes_," Velma growled involuntarily, before she got hold of herself. "I mean, yes, Baby John," she said cheerily, forcing a smile.

Baby John considered this. "I did do pretty good, didn't I?" he said, sounding proud of himself.

Velma internally rolled her eyes. "Yes, Baby John," she repeated.

"I mean, Ice oughta be thankin' me, for savin' ya," he went on, brightening. "The guy coulda really hurt ya!"

Velma dropped her head into her hands. "_Yes, Baby John_," she ground out for the third time.

Luckily, Officers Goddard and Krupke chose that moment to interrupt.

"Velma," said Officer Goddard respectfully, "can ya come down to the stationhouse with us? We need your statement."

A-Rab, hearing this, nudged Baby John. "C'mon, let's go," he hissed. "If we go down there, we might never get out!" And they scampered off.

Velma, nodding, watched as Officer Goddard turned to where Baby John and A-Rab had been just a moment ago. "Boys, if you—"

There was no one there. Officer Goddard picked up the mugger's stray gun and sighed. "We'll find 'em later."

Officer Krupke shrugged. "We always do."

And with that, Officer Krupke shoved the handcuffed would-be mugger (who kept babbling about little kids, crazy ladies, and Boy Scouts) into the back of the car, Officer Goddard ushered Velma into the front seat, and the car sped off, raising a cloud of dust behind it. There was a silence as the street returned to its normal, tranquil appearance.

Popping out from behind a bush, Riff shook his head in disgust. "I can't believe we actually had to _hire_ those Boy Scouts."

"Yeah," said Tony, emerging behind him, snorting. "I don' care what that kid said, they never took actin' lessons in their lives."

Ice was speechless.

Riff glanced over at him with some concern. "Hey, Ice, ya got garbage in your hair," he said.

Ice didn't move.

Now Tony shot him an anxious look. "Hey, Ice, ya all right?"

"I ain't never," said Ice in an eerily quiet voice, "savin' that kid again."

"Oh, it wasn' so bad, was it?" Riff said cheerily. "No one got hurt, right? Not even the mugger!"

"An' now Baby John'll get off your back," Tony pointed out with a grin. "Look on the bright side, Ice!"

"Mugger. Gun. Boy Scouts. Mouthpiece. Baby John. A-Rab. Krupke. Goddard," intoned Ice in that same eerily calm tone.

Tony glanced at Riff, a tad bit worried. "Y'know, I think he's in shock."

"Maybe we should steal him a Coke?" suggested Riff helpfully.

"_RIFF_!" bellowed Ice, suddenly snapping out of his trance and glaring murderously at his friend, who turned white.

"Um, you go ahead an' do that, buddy," said Tony brightly, taking a step back. "I'll, um—see ya later."

"_TONY_!" roared Ice, turning on him.

"On second thought, maybe we oughta run. Now," said Tony hastily.

Riff was already tearing out of there. "Way aheada ya, Daddy-O!"

Tony paled. "Riff! _Wait for me!_"

.

"So I guess a buncha ya know Baby John 'n A-Rab proved themselves true Jets today," declared Tony later that evening at Doc's. He turned to them. "Ya done good, buddy-boys. I'm real proud of ya."

Baby John beamed, and A-Rab grinned. Most of the Jets, though, kept their eyes on their curiously banged-up fearless leader and lieutenant, who, between the two of them, sported two and a half black eyes, numerous cuts and scrapes, and an unusual amount of dirt on their faces.

"Say, what happened to you two, anyway?" Tiger wanted to know.

"Oh, nothin', nothin'," said Tony airily, waving the question off. "Just, uh…fell. Yeah."

"The two of ya together?" asked Snowboy skeptically.

"Yep," nodded Riff with an entirely too enthusiastic laugh. "It was, um. Slippery. Anyway, you guys should be thinkin' about Baby John an' A-Rab!" he added hastily. "They were just _great_!"

Action snorted. "Babykins, here?" he asked incredulously. "What'd _he_ do?"

"Saved one of our girls from some street thugs," explained Riff.

Gee-Tar raised an eyebrow. "Really? Who?"

"Velma," answered Baby John happily. "Right, Ice?"

Ice, stone-faced, nodded woodenly.

"That's convenient," said Big Deal cautiously, looking at Ice. "Now ya don't gotta worry about payin' him back, huh?"

"Yup!" chirped Baby John. He turned to Ice. "'Less ya don' think—"

"_We're square, Baby John_," ground out Ice, digging his fingernails into the table.

"So where were you, Ice?" asked Action, watching him narrowly.

"Not there," Ice managed to say through gritted teeth, then clamped his mouth shut again.

"Yeah, what were ya doin', Ice?" Baby John asked, shaking his head and _tsk_ing with his tongue. "Velma coulda been hurt!"

Ice could only make a strangled noise that sounded vaguely like a dying moose.

"An' that's why we're so grateful to ya, Baby John," Riff said hastily. "Okay, bye guys!"

Ice tore out of there so fast that he was gone before anyone else had had time to even get up.

"What's got him all worked up?" wondered Baby John obliviously. Then he snapped his fingers. "Oh, I know! Maybe he's gonna go find Mouthpiece! He shoulda asked me; I coulda told him Mouthpiece was out lookin' for his butterfly," he finished proudly.

Riff just shook his head, wincing as he did so. "Yeah, sure, Baby John. Whatever ya say."

.

As he and Baby John left Doc's and headed off into the night, A-Rab couldn't help but preen. Baby John had paid Ice back, so he wasn't yapping about it anymore, and A-Rab had gotten to look like the big man today. Best of all, Baby John thought _he_ was responsible for it, when in fact A-Rab's foolproof plan was still tucked in his back pocket. Patting his pocket, A-Rab grinned as he listened to his best friend's grateful chatter. They hadn't even had to use the thank-you card at all; now A-Rab could put it to better use: namely, spitballs and a paper airplane.

"—an' that was all part of your plan, right, A-Rab?" finished Baby John breathlessly.

A-Rab smirked, enjoying the adulation. "Yup."

"Gee," breathed Baby John as he trotted to keep up with his best friend. "I really owe ya one, A-Rab."

"Yeah, sure," agreed a pleased A-Rab without thinking.

Beaming, Baby John turned to his best friend. "An' now that I paid back Ice, I can figure out what I'm gonna do for you!"

A-Rab's eyes widened. "Now, just wait a second—"

"What'll it be, buddy?" asked Baby John, ignoring him.

"Really, I—"

"Just name it, A-Rab."

"Baby John—"

"_A-Rab_," Baby John said firmly, "I gotta. It's a debt of honor."

And A-Rab, picturing an endless stream of days and nights occupied by Baby John, opened and closed his mouth wordlessly—and bolted.

.

Meanwhile, not too many streets away, Velma was consoling a nearly catatonic Ice.

"It wasn't that bad, was it?" she said, rubbing his back comfortingly.

Ice groaned and buried his face in his hands. "That's the thing—it was _worse_," he said, his voice muffled. "They kept goin' on about how ya coulda gotten hurt, an' how I shouldna left ya alone, an' they _wouldn't_._ Shut. Up._ Like I didn' know alla that myself!"

"Well, it was worth it, though, wasn't it?" Velma asked, climbing into his lap and putting her arms around him. "I mean, we're all by ourselves, now, right?"

Ice straightened up and gazed at her, his arms automatically coming up to hold her waist. After a minute, he shook his head slowly. "Yeah," he admitted with a rueful chuckle, "I guess it was. 'Cause we are."

"Let me make ya feel even better about it?" suggested Velma innocently, toying with the bottom of his shirt.

Ice grinned and pulled her down onto the pillows. "_Please_."

.

Not five minutes later, they heard it:

"Lady!"

Velma sat bolt upright. It _couldn't_ be.

"Hey, lady!" the voice continued obliviously. "It's me, Russell! I just wanted to check up on ya an' make sure those big tough gang members didn' hurtcha!"

It _was_.

Ice shot up. "_Oh. My. God_," he said in a low voice, glaring daggers at the window. "Can't a guy get a little peace an' quiet for once?!"

Velma set her jaw and moved grimly to the window, tugging at her skirt. "Let me take care of this." Opening the window, she gazed down at the street. "So. Russell," she said in a honeyed voice. "That you?"

The short, burly boy gaped. "Y—yeah, it's me," he stammered. "Hi."

"D'you remember that very tall, very jealous boyfriend I told ya about?" asked Velma pleasantly.

"Um. Yes?" said Russell in a small voice.

"Well, he's here now. Would ya like to meet him?" Velma inquired sweetly.

"Probably not," said Russell in an even tinier voice, but Velma had already turned back to the room.

"Ice, honey, c'mere for a second."

Ice obligingly stalked over and stuck his head out the window. "All I want is some time alone with my girl, but no," he said, shaking his head and grinning maniacally, "_no_, I just _can't do that_, can I? _Riff_ can. Even _Big Deal_ can. But _I can't_!"

"Guess not," agreed Russell. Then he frowned. "Say, where were you when your girlfriend was gettin' mugged before?"

That was the last straw. Ice _glared_ as he never had before; Velma could practically feel the heat from his gaze. Without any further ado, Russell yelped and sped off down the street.

Velma sighed in relief. "Thanks, honey."

But Ice was already tugging her back inside the room, having slammed the window shut and jerked the curtains closed. Velma gave a small, surprised squeak as he yanked her onto the bed.

"I don't care if the _President_ starts shoutin' outside the window, I ain't listenin'!" snarled Ice, ripping his shirt off.

Velma couldn't quite contain her glee at the sight of her shirtless boyfriend. "Me neither," she breathed as she pulled him down for a kiss. "Now c'mere, you."

And then:

"HI, VELMA!"

Velma almost screamed with frustration. First Baby John, then Russell, and now—_Mouthpiece_? On top of her, Ice swore.

"I FOUND YA THE BUTTERFLY!" Mouthpiece bellowed happily from outside her window.

"There wasn't _even_ a butterfly!" hissed Velma, gritting her teeth as she imagined punching the Jet in the face.

Ice laughed. Velma glanced at him. Had he finally cracked?

In response to her look, Ice chuckled again and threw his hands up in the air. "I give up. Ignore him," he advised, leaning down and kissing her throat. "I am."

Velma inhaled sharply. Maybe there was something to that theory, after all. And it wasn't as if their other methods had worked… "Help me out with that?"

And Ice grinned. "Don't mind if I do."

.

.end.

* * *

Heh, I'm so evil. Hope you enjoyed, feedback always gets a mini-pie. Ooh! And bonus points if you can identify Russell, Kevin, and Doug. :)

—viennacantabile


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